Taffin on Balance Read online

  ‘There has to be a limit. He is not an employee of ours. We are only doing what common decency dictates.’

  ‘I gather he is not your patient, Doctor Morley.’

  ‘I am not a medical doctor.’ A flash of white teeth.

  ‘I misunderstood.’ Clemens refers to his notes again. ‘Mister McDermott’s condition is critical. We know nothing of his personal circumstances but some provision will have to be made for his continued stay with us.’

  ‘Regrettably I can’t guarantee that. My employers are only bystanders in this sad situation, you understand. We are happy to pay Mister McDermott’s expenses up to a reasonable limit, but eventually we must step aside.’

  When Doctor Morley has left, it occurs to Clemens that he has no contact details for the people who brought McDermott in, and no contingency for continuing his treatment when the funds dry up.

  In the meantime he has a patient who is on his own and shows no sign of recovering.

  A SKIP FULL OF OLD BOOKS hangs suspended on four chains before being swung onto the truck.

  Michael Wyatt watches the load settle and thumbs his mobile. ‘I’ve got a ton and a half of heavy reading here. What do you want done with it?’

  Silver’s voice answers: ‘The driver knows where to take it. You’ll recognize the place – you’ve been there before.’

  ‘Good enough.’ Wyatt puts his phone away and shrugs at Greg Dupree. ‘It’s not our problem.’

  He slaps the cab door twice and the truck pulls away.

  Wyatt and Dupree make a final tour of inspection inside the bookshop. The floorboards creak, as ever. Their torch beams flicker along row after row of empty shelves and finally they let themselves out, lock up and leave a lifeless building behind them.

  ‘WHO SAW THIS HAPPEN?’ Perry Butt swivels on his bar stool to face the lunchtime gathering in the White Lion.

  ‘No one, apparently.’ Ivy Lewis flings her arms in a helpless gesture, almost knocking Butt’s glass out of his hand. ‘The front window is empty and you can see some of the ground floor shelves through it. They’ve all been cleared and if that’s anything to go by there isn’t a book left in the place.’

  ‘Theft – vandalism.’ Butt’s plume of white hair rises in outrage. ‘Someone has to answer for this.’

  ‘Guess who –’ Ivy’s voice takes on its public address tone – ‘I’ll tell you – everyone’s favourite Member of Parliament, Gordon StarTrack Glennan, local benefactor, creep extraordinaire and owner of the Tollgate Bookshop.’

  ‘Never mind that,’ Harry Hawkins interrupts. ‘Where are all those books now, that’s what I want to know.’

  ‘That would appear to be the key question.’ Mostyn studies his half of bitter. ‘There were thousands of books. Hiding a hoard like that would be no easy matter.’

  ‘We’re in the hands of philistines,’ Butt booms. ‘You don’t imagine an invaluable cache of reading matter means anything to people like that. The whole lot is probably blazing away at this very moment – that, or they’re being tipped into a landfill site somewhere.’

  Ashley Gunn has walked in through the door marked Gents and catches the end of the conversation.

  ‘There was a skip outside the bookshop yesterday,’ he remarks. ‘If the stock’s been cleared out, it could be traced through the skip hire company.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Harry Hawkins is skeptical. ‘They deal with demolition all the time. It ain’t like the Antiques Roadshow when they get involved.’ The assembly nods with him as he turns to Ivy. ‘This is when we need your hero.’

  ‘He’s in bad shape at the moment.’ Meg pauses in the act of running her ever-present cloth along the bar. ‘Discharged himself from hospital. His mate Ed’s still in there. I thought you all knew.’

  They all knew; the nodding becomes more profound.

  Perry Butt surfaces again. ‘I understood Robin Hood was retired.’

  Ivy Lewis shakes her head. ‘I don’t think so. That was him who got the bookshop to open when it was meant to be shut. I’ll swear he was behind that.’

  Butt is about to comment but Mostyn risks interrupting him. ‘If Mister Taffin is still inclined to help in some way, perhaps this is an occasion when an approach would be justified.’

  To his embarrassment, Mostyn has struck a chord. All eyes turn to him and the nodding becomes more animated.

  ‘I didn’t mean me,’ he explains.

  ‘Good God man, this is your chance to shine.’ Perry Butt swivels to face him. ‘In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility – as you yourself can testify, Mostyn – but when the BLAST OF WAR blows in our ears, then IMITATE THE ACTIONS OF A TIGER – stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, disguise fair nature with HARD-FAVOURED RAGE, lend the eye A TERRIBLE ASPECT. Go on, Mostyn – LEAD US INTO THE BREACH.’

  ‘I’d rather not.’ Mostyn covers his glass against the shower of spittle.

  Ivy Lewis puts an arm round him. ‘Don’t worry, love – Harry and I’ll go and see him. We’ve been before so he knows us.’

  TAFFIN stands outside the office at Muscle Motors, hands behind his back, staring at the skip that now occupies the space where the Dodge Charger was until a couple of days ago.

  The skip was there when he arrived at ten to seven this morning. He has wandered around it, ascertained that it contains an enormous number of books of all sizes, and is now weighing up his options.

  He has no doubt who arranged this delivery. The Tooth Fairy – what did he call himself? Silver – had a couple of gorillas with him; Charlotte identified one of them from Pierre’s photo. No doubt they were tasked with clearing the bookshop and dumping the contents here; The question is, was it Silver’s decision to bring it here – if not, who is pulling his strings? – and what kind of response does he expect?

  Silver must know he, Taffin, is not likely to make this a police matter. For one thing, it wouldn’t be hard to establish ownership of the consignment. This is the contents of a building owned by Gordon Glennan, removed, presumably, on his instructions or at least with his consent.

  No victim, no crime.

  Taffin wanders along the track towards the road and back again. One option would be to make contact with Glennan, ask him what he wants done with his skip load of books and watch his reaction. But would Glennan himself have ordered the contents of his shop to be planted at Muscle Motors? It would be a vindictive act, calculated to do damage, and Taffin seriously doubts that Glennan has that in his nature.

  Dark glasses slip into place. Another turn around the forecourt to reflect, pausing every so often to stare at the skip, as if to divine its reason for being there.

  It seems to be saying: ‘Your move.’

  That, he is sure, is what he’s meant to think.

  Which means the smart move is to do nothing.

  If this is a game of Who Blinks First, Taffin’s dull stare can handle it.

  TWENTY-ONE

  IVY LEWIS has a vivid memory of her last visit to Muscle Motors with Harry Hawkins. Now they’re back, as hesitant and uncertain as before.

  They walk straight past the skip without registering what they’ve seen and tap nervously on the office door. The door swings open. Ivy and Harry see themselves reflected doubly in the dark glasses, and in that moment Ivy realizes they’ve just seen what she was going to ask Taffin to find. No words come so she makes a mute gesture in the direction of the skip.

  Taffin lets his gaze settle on the pair.

  Ivy suffers brain-fade a moment longer before snapping into action. ‘We had something to ask you but it looks like we don’t need to.’

  ‘Let me guess –’ Taffin stares past them – ‘you found what you came looking for.’

  ‘That looks like it, over there.’ Ivy follows Taffin’s eye line. ‘We came to ask a fa
vour but you seem to have beaten us to it. You must think we’re always on your doorstep asking for something.’

  ‘Not at all.’

  Harry finds his voice. ‘The bookshop’s been cleared out. We were all wondering where the stock went but it looks like it’s sitting over there, so we shouldn’t waste any more of your time. Come on Ivy, no point us hanging around.’

  ‘Wait a minute –’ Ivy wants to know more – ‘what’s the idea of bringing the books here?’

  ‘Good question.’

  ‘But you don’t want to answer it.’ Ivy’s eyes sparkle as she wags a knowing finger. ‘Just one more question, then you can tell me to shut up. What happens to the books now?’

  ‘I’ll tell you.’ Taffin takes a long look round and stoops to meet Ivy’s eye. ‘We’ll put a cover over them so they don’t get wet, then we’ll wait and see who turns up to claim them.’

  Ivy frowns. ‘No one’s going to claim them. Strictly speaking they’re Gordon Glennan’s property and he obviously doesn’t want anything to do with them.’

  ‘Someone’ll turn up.’ A hint of amusement touches the broad features for a moment. ‘They won’t be able to resist it.’

  ‘There you are –’ Ivy turns to Harry Hawkins, triumphant finger raised – ‘he’s baited a trap. What did I tell you? I said he’d do the right thing by us if humanly possible.’

  Harry takes Ivy’s arm to lead her away, remarking over his shoulder, ‘Ivy’s always had a lot of faith in you. We’ll leave you in peace.’

  Taffin nods quietly, and at the same moment his gaze freezes on the track beyond them as a gunmetal Mercedes slides among the shadows and stops.

  Ivy has seen it too. ‘More visitors, Taffin. You’re popular today.’

  Taffin leaves the office doorway and ambles after them, hands in pockets.

  Silver leaves the Mercedes and approaches, smiling politely at Ivy and Harry in passing, stopping in Taffin’s path. ‘I came to see how you’re getting on.’

  A movement in the shade of the trees by the Mercedes. Taffin assumes Silver is not alone.

  ‘Same as usual.’

  ‘Same as usual...’ Silver turns the response over, reflecting. ‘You haven’t forgotten about my client, I hope.’

  ‘Mister Adams? I never give him a thought.’

  ‘You should. He thinks about you. Have you found him a car yet?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that. You should try harder.’

  Taffin nods slowly and turns to look at the Mercedes. ‘Tell your mates there’s nothing to interest them in my office.’

  ‘You’re a surprising fellow, Taffin. Why would you say a thing like that?’

  ‘We got them on camera.’

  ‘No chance. You should check your equipment.’

  ‘My colleague got a headache the same night. Those gentlemen need to answer for that.’

  ‘I can see how you’d feel like that.’

  ‘Unreliable men.’ Taffin shakes his head heavily. ‘They had a go at me, too.’

  ‘Someone assaulted you, Taffin? That sounds unlikely.’

  ‘Funny old world, ain’t it?’ Taffin has ambled round Silver, causing him to turn.

  ‘You must have upset someone, Taffin. I hear it can get rough in the motor trade. Which reminds me,’ Silver’s bright smile hardens, ‘your colleague’s former employer had an accident – he’s in intensive care – witnesses say your colleague was there when it happened.’

  Taffin takes a leisurely pace forward and Silver’s face freezes to an agonized rictus.

  ‘Listen to me very carefully –’ the voice is whispered gravel – ‘I know two of your names and I ain’t convinced by either of them. You’ve made a mistake planting the books here. Your boss won’t be happy.’

  While Taffin is saying this, Silver is slowly cockling over the nerve-shattering pain in his navicular bone.

  After another moment, Taffin shifts his weight, releasing Silver’s foot from the underside of his heel. Silver risks a cautious step, gasping with the pain. A glare of teeth reflected double in dark lenses.

  Looking back, Ivy Lewis mistakes Silver’s posture for laughter.

  ‘Look Harry – Taffin must’ve told that man a joke. There’s a sight I never thought I’d see.’

  As the two of them walk on towards Harry’s car, Silver takes two hobbling steps, staring venom at Taffin, then composes himself.

  ‘You really don’t want to mess with me, Taffin. You’re a long way out of your depths and there’s no way back.’

  Two doors open on the Mercedes. Wyatt and Dupree have noticed Silver’s change of posture and are happy to intervene.

  Taffin leans close to Silver’s ear. ‘Your associates are joining us. What are you going to tell them?’

  ‘They know how to deal with the likes of you, Taffin. They don’t need telling.’

  ‘Last time we met, they helped my colleague unload a car from the low-loader. They’ll take instructions from me again.’

  Taffin watches Wyatt and Dupree approach, strolls to meet them, hands behind his back.

  ‘I was telling Mister Silver he ain’t fit be in charge of you lads. He’s got no judgment, and what’s worse, no manners.’

  Wyatt moves in close; Dupree moves round to Taffin’s other flank.

  Dupree’s face glows with triumph. ‘He’s a mouthy fucker, isn’t he?’

  Taffin turns to him. ‘You’re the one I want to talk to. I’ve got a job for you.’

  ‘You’ve got a job for me?’ Dupree swells with anticipation of payback, spreading his arms. ‘Here I am.’

  Taffin stares him in the face, aware of Wyatt on his right.

  ‘The gentleman beside me hit a lady. Your job is to pick him up.’

  On the last word Taffin adjusts his balance, right arm, fist bunched, slamming sideways taking Wyatt on the point of the jaw.

  Dupree’s eyes wide as Wyatt falls backwards full weight.

  Silver moving in, seen in peripheral vision, right hand coming from his jacket.

  Taffin’s right hand clamping on Silver’s wrist. The gun glimpsed in an instant.

  Taffin’s left arm locking on Silver’s forearm. Right hand jerking down against the elbow angle. Pistol and bone cracking in unison as Silver cries out. Taffin’s left leg booting him away to sprawl on the rough ground.

  Taffin stooping to retrieve the revolver.

  Dupree staring down the barrel as Silver squirms at his feet. Wyatt stirring, making no effort to rise.

  A moment to reflect. Taffin examines the snub-nosed 38 in his hand. ‘Sneaky,’ he remarks. ‘Either of you clowns carrying?’

  Dupree cautiously opening his jacket to show no weapons.

  ‘The other gentleman?’

  ‘How would I know?’

  ‘Check him out.’

  Dupree takes a step towards Wyatt, stoops and opens his jacket.

  ‘Look for yourself.’

  ‘You do the looking.’

  Dupree glares at him and makes a thorough search of Wyatt’s clothing.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Pick him up.’

  Dupree braces himself and hauls Wyatt to his feet. Wyatt’s head lolls as he brings Taffin into focus.

  Silver has worked himself to a kneeling position using his left arm to support his limp right. ‘You’re dead, Taffin.’

  ‘Tell your Mister Adams I know who you’re working for. Explain to him you tipped me off yourself. The skip was your mistake.’

  At the same moment, Ivy Lewis and Harry Hawkins are strapping themselves into Harry’s car. Harry glances back at the scene, just visible through the trees.

  ‘I’ll tell you what –’ Harry nudges Ivy’s elbow – ‘w
hatever Taffin said to those fellows must’ve been crippling. They’re still rolling about on the ground.’

  ‘I DON’T LIKE THAT THING.’ Charlotte peers at the 38 revolver as Taffin thumbs the release to drop the cylinder sideways.

  ‘I don’t care for it myself.’ Taffin ejects the rounds into his hand, one spent. ‘The Tooth Fairy was trigger-happy.’

  ‘Was he shooting at you?’ Charlotte’s round eyes.

  ‘I had hold of him. He didn’t hit anything.’

  ‘What are you going to do with the gun?’

  ‘Put it in the safe.’

  Charlotte shakes her head. ‘I don’t like it. Who are we dealing with? I thought they were just run-of-the-mill idiots but it looks like they fancy themselves.’

  ‘They’re just window-dressing for some fat cat.’

  ‘So who’s the fat cat – that geezer who came shopping for Ed and Rick?’

  ‘McDermott – nah. The Tooth Fairy says he’s in intensive care somewhere.’

  ‘What happened to him?’

  ‘Accident.’

  ‘Too many accidents just lately.’ Charlotte takes the revolver from him and opens the safe. ‘Look at me, Babe – you wouldn’t use this thing, would you?’

  ‘Not my style. Never has been.’

  ‘It doesn’t belong here.’

  ‘Better here than with them.’

  Charlotte searches his face. ‘So what happened after you finished smacking them about?’

  ‘Kath was watching on her laptop and told Rick. He turned up in time to help out. We checked their car to see if they had any more surprises like that –’ he gestures at the revolver – ‘then we packed them off.’

  ‘That ain’t the end of it. They’ll be back, for sure.’

  ‘Not till they’ve got their instructions, girl. The Tooth Fairy won’t blow his nose without word from higher up, and his boss won’t be happy with him.’

  ‘That’s the question, isn’t it – who is his boss?’

  ‘Mister Adams.’